Dancing Hands
by Sammael Silverpen
Summary: After being rescued from a terrorist, Obi-Wan must now deal with the aftermath as the drug used by the terrorist takes something important from him. How will Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan cope if they cannot communicate? Former penname - Lord Sam
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All recognisable characters, places, etc belong to George Lucas, etc.

Soooo...You've decided to take a chance on "Dancing Hands" have you? Yes I'll admit it's not very long but it does get better!

Read and Review please! Let me know what you think!

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Healer Soras stretched uncomfortably on his sleep couch as his chrono's alarm bleeped annoyingly. He opened one bleary eye and groaned. He was an elderly human, with buzz-cut silver hair and glowing green eyes. His leg protested at the sudden movement. He'd been shot through the leg as a Padawan, yet even though he was crippled he still devoted every part of himself to the Jedi Order, perhaps not as a Knight as he had dreamed about his boyhood, but instead as a Healer, which in itself was a very fulfilling job.

_Morning already? _The Healer thought as he dressed hurriedly for another day's work. He'd been up late the night before: the newest patient kept having nightmares and thrashing in his sleep. But such was the life of a Healer, even a Jedi Healer. Soras was the Healer in charge of the long-term ward at the Jedi Med Centre.

They only had three patients at the moment. Knight Tanlas was a sad case. The poor woman was convinced that she was Telosian baker named Mary. Her Mind Healer said she was starting to recover quite nicely, though what changes he saw Soras definitely could not tell.

The second patient was Initiate Folen, who'd either jumped or had been pushed (he refused to say which) from a second story window. The resulting fall had broken _both _his legs. The ten-year-old Human had –of course- complained bitterly that he'd never become a Padawan now. Soras had told him outright that it wasn't his legs that would stop him from reaching Padawan status but his attitude. Since then the boy had wisely complained less.

It was the third patient that Soras was on his way to check on at that moment. A seventeen-year-old Padawan named Obi-Wan Kenobi. Padawan Kenobi had been admitted into his care two days prior thoroughly beaten and battered after his mission with his Master Qui-Gon Jinn. The details of the mission had been classified as "need to know" and apparently Soras did not "need to know" very much. He remembered the scant information he'd been given about the Padawan's condition on his arrival. Obi-Wan had been taken hostage by a criminal for a duration of two and a half weeks. During that time, he'd been beaten daily and injected with an unknown drug every twelve hours. The drug had seemingly been a paralyzing agent that, when taken too often, caused long-term or sometimes irreparable lifelong damage to the user. Obi-Wan was seemingly one of them.

Soras entered the ward noiselessly. It was, after all, the break of dawn and he hoped the patients were still asleep. Thankfully the ward was silent save for the gentle breathing of the sleeping patients. Although it appeared Master Jinn was still awake as he turned his vivid blue gaze to rest on Healer Soras. The maverick Jedi was sitting in a chair by his Padawan's sleep couch, where he had been every day and every night.

"Good morn, Healer Soras," Master Jinn whispered politely, not raising his voice in the slightest, lest he disturb the patients.

"Good morn, Master Jinn." Soras inclined his head slightly. "Has there been any change? More nightmares?" Jinn shook his head and Soras sighed in relief.

"Do you know the extent of—of the—damage?" Jinn's gaze seemed to burn with blue fire, almost willing Soras into saying that nothing was wrong with Obi-Wan. Soras looked back at the despairing Master, fixing his emerald stare on Jinn's blue.

"I have isolated the damaged area, yes." He began slowly. "Padawan Kenobi is strangely fortunate yet not so." He paused for a second and saw that Obi-Wan was beginning to stir. No doubt he was listening to every word. Soras pressed on. "His limbs are still in perfect working order, just sore from the beatings and disuse – but there is no damage there. I also checked his vital organs – again he is perfectly healthy."

Jinn frowned. "You said you knew what was damaged."

Soras nodded. "And I do. The drug has paralyzed Obi-Wan's vocal chords. He cannot speak any longer. How long the damage will last, whether or not it will heal, is unknown to me." He hung his head.

"He spoke to me when we arrived at the Temple." Qui-Gon's voice was emotionless and steady. "He spoke to me."

"It must have deteriorated rapidly," explained Soras remembering how hoarse and weak Obi-Wan's voice had been. Obi-Wan's eyes blinked open at that moment. He stared at his Master and then at the Healer with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen. Qui-Gon jumped up from his chair and hugged Obi-Wan like a father would hug a son. Soras felt his heart wrench.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered and then all but fled from the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi! Wow, this took forever and I am sooooo sorry! I've had this major writer's block for months and I kind of fell out of sync with Star Wars. But I got "The Life and Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi" for Christmas, and I've just finished reading it, so hopefully this chapter will be the first of many coming your way soon!

As always: I do not own Star Wars or any of the recognisable characters. The places are mine though. Hehe

Also thank you ALL for reviewing/faving/alerting etc these lonely months. You're all so KIND!

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**Dancing Hands Chapter 2: Four months later...**

Qui-Gon Jinn walked briskly down the streets of Nortaya, his cloak wrapped firmly around him and his hood up to protect him from the blasting winds and freezing rain. The Jedi Master was neither pleased nor comfortable with the situation but he didn't really have a choice - it was a mission after all and he couldn't exactly say no. Qui-Gon's seventeen-year-old Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, hurried after him and was every bit as miserable as his Master.

"Come on, Obi-Wan!" He called back to his lagging apprentice. "It's not far now." Obi-Wan nodded, acknowledging his Master. Qui-Gon felt a brief stab of pity for his Padawan. Four months of recovery had brought Obi-Wan back to himself - almost. Speech was the one thing that still eluded him and the Healer's -for all their vast medical knowledge- could do nothing to help. He would either recover the use of his voice by himself, or he would never again speak. The boy hurried to catch up, shivering and Qui-Gon continued down the streets with Obi-Wan a step behind. Their apartment was near; they would turn up the heating, get dry-- A sudden tug on his sleeve made Qui-Gon pause, his thoughts scattering. He looked at Obi-Wan.

"What's wrong, Padawan?" Surely the boy was as eager as he to get out of the horrible weather? Obi-Wan let go of his Master's sleeve and gestured a message:

"_Being watched. Bad feeling." _Obi-Wan's keen gaze scanned the area. "_Too much rain. Can't see."_ Qui-Gon squeezed the boy's shoulder. He too had sensed the being watching them but had chosen not to comment, waiting to see if his Padawan would notice.

"Use the Force then, Padawan. What does it tell you?" Obi-Wan closed his eyes and Qui-Gon could feel the Force swirling around him as he focused, forgetting the rain and wind and the cold as he centred himself in the Force. After a few moments his eyes flew open and he looked straight at a rooftop. Exactly the rooftop where a being lay in wait, watching them. Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan away.

"Come, Padawan. It is better to try and avoid a confrontation." Obi-Wan nodded and the pair moved quickly down the street and into their apartment. Qui-Gon shrugged off his cloak as he entered and hung it up on the stand, grimacing as he watched a steady stream of water run off it. As Obi-Wan hung his up next to Qui-Gon's, he noticed that it was no dryer than his own, and that his apprentice was shivering with the cold. Nortaya was a beautiful planet when it was dry, but when it rained, it _poured_.

Qui-Gon shooed his Padawan away to change into warmer clothes as he turned up the apartment's heating. He glanced out of the window as he passed, watching the great sheets of rain drape across Nortaya's capital city and namesake. The Jedi's mission was not a particularly difficult one, a security firm had experienced strange break-ins, seemingly by someone capable of using the Force. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were to investigate the break-ins, find the culprit and apprehend them if necessary - a task which was taking them much longer than expected, but then again missions were flexible and no time-scale was fixed for certain missions. A Jedi had to adapt to the situation and flow with the Force.

Qui-Gon moved into the small kitchen, preparing a warm evening meal for himself and his Padawan. He was mid-way through cooking when the Force surged around him like a wave. _Obi-Wan was taking too long._Qui-Gon's heart thudded painfully in his chest as he abandoned the meal and rushed through the apartment towards Obi-Wan's room. The situation felt almost painfully familiar, only last time he had not seen Obi-Wan until two weeks later, battered and beaten. He threw open the boy's door only to find him leaning against the wall, staring out the window. Obi-Wan jumped, startled as the door hissed open, and met the gaze of his normally-calm Master. He frowned in concern.

"_Master? Ok?"_ The language of gestures had been Mace's idea, a very old system used by beings that could not hear or - in Obi-Wan's case - could not speak. Qui-Gon had never heard of it but after four months he and Obi-Wan had picked it up quickly and Obi-Wan frequently made up new gestures for words he did not already know. There were times when Obi-Wan grew frustrated, even angry, at his own inability to communicate but these incidents were rare and infrequent. Qui-Gon sighed, allowing himself a small smile.

"Yes, Obi-Wan. Everything's fine. I was just checking on you."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. _"Do not need checking on. Not a child"_

"Of course, you're not." He smiled and then frowned, the Force surging again. But if it was not warning him about Obi-Wan then what was it?

"_Master?"_ Obi-wan clicked his fingers to get Qui-Gon's attention. "_Sense it too?"_ Qui-Gon nodded, stretching out with the Force. Whatever it was it was elusive...almost hidden. He chased it down with the Force, sensing Obi-Wan join in. Obi-Wan met Qui-Gon's gaze in alarm as they came to the same conclusion.

_Someone else was in the apartment._

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And that's it for now I'm afraid. Cliffie! Oooh. I'll try and get the next chapter done, soon I promise.

And I apologise if this was terrible. And for it being so short.


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